by Lisa Daniels
Strange now, to know what they left behind. Not a formless island filled with shadows and demons, but a fully functioning society of people, who traded with others—just not really anyone across the seas. Seemed the world was a lot bigger than Evelyn had previously imagined, if the Zamorkans traded with other nations beyond Jarithas and the Undercity.
The Undercity, though, was at least three times as big as Leavenport. Just a huge mess of buildings and traders and slums that lived in the shadows of the Six Isles.
When night fell upon them, Rukia came to relieve her so she could get some rest. Or join the crew down in the Rec room. “They’re playing several of Alex’s games now. You should try them out, they’re fun.”
Evelyn smiled at Rukia. “Maybe. You know, I wonder which one of us would be the better air witch at the academy.”
“I don’t think it would be a competition,” Rukia said simply. “We’re both good at different things. But, hey, maybe I could take you on.”
Evelyn nodded thoughtfully to herself. One thing she noticed about Rukia was that the woman seemed able to endure utter magical exhaustion better than anyone she’d ever seen. Most people went unconscious once they ran out. This woman, however, seemed able to cling onto wakefulness, and continue pushing out magic, far beyond when she should. She’d sensed Rukia running out during the first wildstorm—and when they were stuck in the wild forest, she’d been sure Rukia had run out.
Yet somehow, the woman kept going. Like she had an exceptionally high tolerance of pain.
I hope we’ll be able to work together some more once we return. I think I’ll quite enjoy it. “Maybe you will.” She patted Rukia on the shoulder, before heading downstairs—and straight for Janus.
All it took was one look from her, a little bit of suggestive posing, and Janus quickly made his excuses to leave the Rec room. Barely had they made it past his bedroom door before he scrabbled at her clothes, determined to yank them off and consume every part of her in passion. His strength comforted and thrilled her. She loved seeing the gleam of the dragon behind his eyes, as he pinned her onto the bed and kissed her deeply, as their bodies joined together in shuddering pleasure.
She feasted herself upon his naked form, from the curving, well-toned muscles to the almost elegant shape of his entire body. She liked seeing how aroused he was for her, but most of her attention was taken by everything else about him. His short, dark hair glistening at the temples with sweat. His eyes hazing over, his breaths coming hot and fast, and the way his arms tensed as he braced himself against her body and used his own legs to nudge hers apart. She let herself sink into him, let him enter her, from body to mind to soul, and dug her fingers tight into his back as they rode the desire to its conclusion.
It sometimes scared her, how quickly the lust took over. It mostly fascinated her, to feel such pull for another person, to want them close in every possible way.
They finished the act and surfaced from the emotions as if they’d been underwater the whole time, gasping for air, trying to function rationally past the licking pleasure in their limbs and the glow of post-coitus. They didn’t talk much. Just lay in each other’s arms, and let sleep take them.
Which happened rather a lot over the course of the journey back to their lands.
Games, steering the ship. Eating, attending to her bodily needs, and sex. Lots of it. Something about being in the air affected them, made them eager to embrace one another so high up. Perhaps because he was a dragon that could fly, and she controlled the winds. The air and open sky was a part of them.
Their calling.
The Undercity and the Six Isles came into sight in just under two weeks of their journey. Their home. Evelyn saw the Isles with new eyes, marveling at their beauty, and the vast labyrinthine sprawl of the Undercity.
“We’re home,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around her as they looked out upon the familiar sights of their country. “And it still seems to be standing.”
For now, anyway.
Meridas directed the ship to dock at the almost abandoned Isle, sending his people with a tiny bottle of the cure into the core, in a hope to heal the hoverstone before it gave out and the entire island plummeted into the Undercity below. They’d already managed the evacuations above and below. Evelyn knew Janus was impatient to get back to Ruthen Isle—but they had to make sure the cure worked.
She waited with him on the ship, talking about introducing him to her family, about what his plans were.
“Aside from healing everyone on Ruthen Isle before it’s too late… I’m thinking about setting up a regular trade route to Zamorka. I know I said I wanted to travel with you around, but I was thinking it would make sense to keep you on this route. Since it’ll take a while for other people to shrug off their superstition. I was wondering if you and Rukia would like to be the air witches to do so,” he said, giving her a few kisses on the cheek, though Evelyn sensed his anxiety, his impatience to be back on Ruthen Isle.
“Only if you pay me obscene amounts of money, because it’s a long journey either way, being stuck on a ship.”
“That can be arranged. I’ll come with you on some of them, if that makes it any better.”
“Oh, it does,” she said with a light purr in her voice. “You better ask Rukia if she wants to keep it up, though.”
Janus glanced discreetly at Rukia, who was reading a book in the alcove. “Maybe later.”
Evelyn smiled, thinking about how her family would react if she told them she was now sending trade ships to Zamorka. Probably not well. And that made her all the more eager to mention it. Along with the fact that she happened to be dating a Ruthe family member, and one that transformed into a huge, biting dragon.
Should be a very interesting family reunion.
Meridas and Alex returned around an hour later, flushed but beaming.
“It works,” they said.
“Great!” Evelyn clapped her hands together. “Did it go… smoothly?”
“About as smooth as it could go,” Alex replied, narrowing her eyes at Janus’ now agitated pacing. “We used almost all our bottle, but it didn’t take as much as we thought. This cure is good. We can stop the disease.”
“Until the next time it appears,” Meridas said in a rather ominous tone.
“Fantastic,” Janus snapped at them. “Now can we go and heal the people on my island?”
“Of course.” Meridas strode over to tell Rukia to launch them off. Janus teetered on the edge, eager to get the cure to Ruthen Island, and Evelyn held his hand all the way back home.
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The Dragon's Storm Witch
Six Isles’ Witches & Dragons
Book 3
By: Lisa Daniels
Prologue: Fall of Serpent’s Isle
Although no one expected the island to fall, it did. Perran’s parents had lied to him for ages about how nothing would happen, that people talking about their home collapsing were just trying to make him worry. Maybe they were convincing themselves that everything was fine. Right up until the point where it wasn’t.
He held his sister Emilie’s hand, and they leaned over the railing of the skyship evacuating them from Serpent Isle, watching their home plummet into darkness. His best friend, Lissa, watched with wet eyes.
“My parents will help you,” Perran said to Lissa, as she shook and shook. “We won’t let you be alone.”
The older girl wiped her nose, saying nothing, just staring beyond the wind and rain, as if hoping, somehow, the island would rise again. Other kids and adults watched from the dark, wooden decks, most silent, some whispering, crying, or conversing with each other in low tones. The cold night bit into Perran, and he wanted to retreat below. Lissa had other plans, though, and he didn’t intend to leave her alone on the deck.
“Why did our parents lie?” Emilie whispered, hugging her brother tight.
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br /> “I don’t know,” Perran replied. He stared down at his sister’s head, smelling her wet hair, feeling her shiver against him. Seeing her cry, nestled up against him, made him wish she’d stop. He didn’t want his little sister to be so sad.
Whatever happened in the future, he knew he’d protect her. Even if their home had vanished, and people they loved and knew had been lost, at least they still had each other. Him and Emilie against the world. Oh, and Lissa, too.
Chapter One – Kelsey
She opened the door to a stranger in her master’s house. She tried not to look at him as she’d been trained, since any failure to comply on her part resulted in punishment—but something about his manner made her glance up. From the red, carpeted floor to his kind face, with deep brown eyes and curly, black hair, he had a certain pull about him. Only lords and wealthy men held that kind of authority. She knew her mistake the moment she did it, and one of the main house servants spotted it with a gleeful grin.
Why did it have to be Charlotte, of all people?
“I have business with Lord Feylen,” the man said. “Can you lead me to him?”
Gaze now firmly fixed on the floor, Kelsey gave a polite curtsy. “Yes, m’lord. Right this way.” She inwardly prayed that Charlotte wouldn’t go scuttling to Master Feylen before his guest was introduced, but it was a forlorn hope, to say the least.
“I’m no lord, but thank you,” the man said, his light voice gentle in comparison to Feylen’s brittle, smoke-filled tones. “Not unless one of my many siblings drops dead, but we can’t have everything.”
She didn’t answer, didn’t want to provoke a discussion which might get her punished for fraternizing. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Why had she allowed herself to look up at him? Stupid, stupid—how many times did they have to beat her before she stopped? She thought about the marks on her back from the latest whipping. The worst mark was etched across her buttocks, where Feylen meticulously landed his whip on the same spot each time. Turning it from bad to worse to agonizing. Sweet skies, if they punished her today, she’d be bleeding everywhere. Slower in her duties. No—she’d find a way. Swipe some extra bandages from the apothecary with her wages. She was almost out of coin—Feylen didn’t like to pay bad workers much—but at least she was here, right?
Here in the Six Isles, instead of down in the scummy, disgusting Undercity. She shivered, remembering Feylen telling her that if she didn’t work hard enough, he’d send her right back down there, lottery ticket winner or not. Outside Master Feylen’s study at last, Kelsey curtsied again, staring firmly at his shiny brown shoes.
“Thank you. Now… are you all right? You seem… stressed,” the man said. To Kelsey’s horror, he crouched down, clearly looking at her face. Get away!
“I’mfinethankyousir, Ihavetogo,” she babbled, backing away from him, desperately keeping her eyes fixed on the ground. Fear and anxiety welled up inside her until it choked her from within, and curses, she could even feel the prick of tears attacking.
“So, the rumors are true, then.” Now the stranger’s voice turned from syrupy nice to hard, unamused. “Get back here.”
No! If I’ve upset the guest… Wretchedly, Kelsey stopped her scuttle away, and drew nearer. “I’m sorry, sir—please don’t think bad of me.”
“I don’t think badly of you at all. Look at me. Come on.” The man’s voice turned kind again.
“No!” Kelsey barked the word, then clapped her hands over her mouth in horror. “No, sir, lord, I can’t. I’m not supposed to look at the guests, it’s bad manners.”
“Bad manners…? It’s considered good manners to look someone in the eyes when speaking to them.”
“Will be...” She barely managed to squeak out the next word, “punished.”
“Punished.” His voice came out flat. “For the mere crime of looking at someone. Sounds like you live with a monster, little one.”
“Forget I said anything, sir. I’m sorry. I’m speaking out of place.”
He moved towards her. “Be still.” One finger touched her chin, forcing her to lift her face up, though she still looked anywhere but at him. “The state of this,” he muttered. “And I detect bruising upon your neck.” His hand tugged at her servant’s robe, revealing more of her body, more of the bruises. “Whip marks.”
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her back already throbbed in the fearful knowledge of getting beaten.
“It’s disgusting. Truly disgusting.” His words sounded like an insult, but the tone didn’t fit with one.
“W-what do you mean?” He must mean her. What else would he mean?
He halted his examination of her bruises. “Oh, just that I prefer my servants significantly less abused. Come. Follow me inside.”
Stomach sinking, she had no choice but to obey, in case the guest had cause to complain. She opened her eyes at last when he knocked upon the door of Master Feylen’s study.
“Enter!”
The stranger went through, and she slinked after him, just in time to spot Charlotte walking off through the door to the kitchens, pleased with herself.
She’s told the master. I’d hoped she wouldn’t.
“Ah, Sir Rus, I’ve been expecting you.”
With Kelsey’s view of the wooden, lacquered floor, she saw her master getting up to shake Rus’ hand. Was it a name or surname? Because Rus sounded awfully like a person who came from Azarus Isle, and that was the king’s place. The king with all his many children, all far more significant then she’d ever be.
“Get out, girl,” Feylen said then, clearly fixing on her. “You will be required later.”
“Oh, I asked her to stay,” Rus said, forestalling Kelsey’s sudden hope of escaping this nightmare. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“I do,” Feylen growled. “I would rather not have a servant listening to our business.”
“It won’t take long. All right, so, I know we were considering doing a trading deal together, regarding obtaining commerce from Zamorka. You’re offering a fair sum of money, and I very much appreciate that. However… there’s a little snag.”
“What?”
Kelsey continued to make herself as small as possible in the corner of Feylen’s grand study, imagining dirt pouring out from her and contaminating the floor because of her unworthy presence. She imagined Charlotte and some of the other servants peeking when Feylen finally got to punishing her. They didn’t get punished as much, because they were natural born citizens, and never needed to rely on luck to get them out of there. Kelsey, in the meanwhile, had been paying for a ticket every week ever since she’d been drawing pay in her family’s business. Her mother and father were clockmakers, which didn’t earn a lot of money, but certainly enough to make them comfortable in comparison to the others in the Undercity. And she’d been fortunate enough to have her own parents be able to afford to pay her.
Winning the lottery had once felt like such a beautiful dream. Going up to the Six Isles, being placed to work in a master’s house, having a home up there… taking the ferry to Feylok Isle had been so exciting.
Right up until she found out just what kind of people lived in Feylen’s manse. People who mocked her lack of manners, people who laughed and called her stupid and useless because she couldn’t do the things they did. As for Feylen…
He had made it clear that he loathed those who had made it up here by luck, rather than effort. She was only here because the bureaucrats were required to find space for Kelsey to live and draw pay, not because he wanted her.
Yet every time her parents wrote to her, she told them what a wonderful time she was having. She didn’t want to crush their dreams, to lose the little money she sent them, and to keep them firmly lodged in that shop for the rest of their lives.
“You see,” Rus said, now raising his chin in an impressive manner, “I don’t appreciate the kind of service you’re running here with your servants. This one here is terrified even to be addressed. She has bruises. I’ve heard some rumors ab
out how you treat people, but I have to say, you’ve really worked your magic on this one, haven’t you?”
“It’s none of your business,” Feylen snarled, bristling. “Either talk about business or get out of my house. I did not invite you here to insult me.”
Rus continued to smile amiably, until he pulled out a small, glittering brass badge from his pocket. “Skytown Police.”
Kelsey glanced upward to see her master’s face, despite knowing the trouble it’d get her in, to see his features contort with rage. “Police?” he sputtered, almost apoplectic. “You mean you tricked me?”
“I’m required to search your premises, with reasonable suspicion that you abuse the people you hire and who work in your place. If I am found correct in my assumption, you will be stripped of your right to employee subsidies, lose your current crop of servants, and pay a hefty fine.” Rus continued wearing his easy smile. “My men are searching your premises as I speak.”
“You—you can’t do this! How dare you—my home—my servants—” Feylen struggled to express his indignation, and for the first time, a faint glimmer of hope flickered in Kelsey.
“We have received a number of complaints about your conduct. And at least three sexual abuse cases, too, which should make you look just great in front of a grand jury.”
Feylen continued to sputter, before he seemed to remember that Kelsey was in the room. “I bet she told you lies, didn’t she? You lied, didn’t you, you little witch!” He got up, fingers twitching as if they wanted to wrap around her throat, and began to stalk across the length of the room, bearing down upon Kelsey.
Before Feylen completed his advance, Rus’ form undulated, shifting from a well-dressed, straight-backed figure to a dark gray, snarling serpent, with ominous dagger-shaped teeth and dark lizard eyes. The dragon’s wings expanded outwards, knocking Feylen onto the floor, and his anger dissolved into sudden terror. “No… you can’t do this!”
The dragon snapped those wicked teeth inches away from Feylen’s face, and he let out a scream of terror. Meanwhile, Kelsey watched in both horror and fascination, both fearful for her master, and elated that someone at last was punishing him, which then led to guilt.
